


All These Things

by littledhampir



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Peggy Carter, Day 5, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, POV Outsider, POV Third Person, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steegy Week, Steggy - Freeform, Steggy Week 2020, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The author cried while writting this, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Written Pre-Infinity War, but I'm also a softie who needs fluff and happy endings, but she also needs a hug, howard stark is a good bro, i live for the angst, pure angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25476550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledhampir/pseuds/littledhampir
Summary: "Even if you think I’m a fool. Even if it takes me a million days. I’ll give you the future you gave away. I’ll do all these things for you."What few people knew, it was that Howard and Anthony Stark, no matter how flawed they were, could be wonderful friends when they wanted to be.
Relationships: Peggy Carter & Howard Stark, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Howard Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This was written for the Steggy Week 2020, day 5. Prompt: Outsider POV.  
> It's based on the song "All These Things" by One Republic. 
> 
> English isn't my first language, so please forgive me for any mistakes. This has been beta read, but you never know. If you find anything wrong, please, just message me and I'll fix it. 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy it!

_“I’ll do all these things for you (…) I’ll give you the future you gave away”_

(All These Things – One Republic)

If there was something undeniable in this world, it was that the last two generations of Starks were, to say the least, brilliant. Such statement was common knowledge, practically common sense, and despite the enemies both father and son managed to made in the course of their lives, nobody could say otherwise. It was also vastly known that both men had a gigantic list of flaws – egocentrics, narcissists and arrogant, to say the least. However, despite popular opinion, it wasn’t with just these characteristics the two men were made of. The public didn’t know them completely, which was understandable, after all, you can never know a person fully. Especially if it’s a public person, where at least half of what one presents it’s a front, and the other half is a superficial impression of one’s personality, not doing justice to the depth of who one is. But, whatever. They both were content to leave it as it was. However, what few people knew it was that Howard and Anthony Stark, no matter how flawed they were, could be wonderful friends when they wanted to be. 

**1946**

It all started with Howard – no matter how many times Tony claimed that he was the one who solved the whole question. After a huge turmoil where a Red Room agent seduced Howard, stole his most dangerous inventions – the infamous _bad babies_ , it was how he called them –, and made it look like Stark himself was selling them to the Russians, painting him as a State traitor and making everyone ask for his head, probably in the literal sense of the expression, Howard didn’t have any other choice but involve Peggy in that mess. The SSR made him the target on its witch-hunt, and he couldn’t recover his inventions, avoid prison and discover who was setting him up all the same time. So, he really hadn’t any other option. Peggy was his longtime friend, ever since the beginning of Project Rebirth, and she knew who he was, knew his character that, sometimes was dubious, would never turn against his own country. With Agent Carter’s help, they discovered it was an old fling, which took him a few hours to remember her name (it was a long time ago, they didn’t spend much time together except for a weekend and he had met a few other ladies at the time, not mentioning that wasn’t even the woman’s real name) and how she had orchestrated the whole situation with the help of a terrorist cell called Leviathan, but, at that point, the damage was already done. In the end, they managed to stop an attack against New York, but there were consequences to be dealt with. Two of them, unfortunately, hurt his friend a lot.

The first one was about item number 13 in the list of his stolen inventions, and as soon as Peggy orchestrated the ransom by the SSR, he had to ask her to steal it from the agency, since he didn’t trust none of the federal agents with such preciosity. However, knowing it would hurt her, Howard didn’t tell her what was it about, giving her another excuse for her to retrieve the item. Like that was going to work. Peggy could smell the bullshit in the air better than the FBI’s sniffing dogs. Therefore, the young agent took back the object, but hid it with her, to see with her own eyes what it was. Howard, who was in trouble (and what trouble that was, a blue eyed blonde with a cheeky smile and an enormous will to please), was around when she finally opened the item, discovering what it protected inside.

The scientist knew in the instant her eyes touched the object that his attempt to protect her had been unsuccessful. Always guarded and stoic, with a mask on her face that prevented people from find out what was going on inside her mind most of the time, Peggy couldn’t stop the flash of pain that appeared in her eyes, she couldn’t even suppress the small gasp that escaped from her lips. 

“Howard,” she started, voice heavy, but her face was still inexpressive, staring the object in her hands, before she came back to herself and fixated her eyes on her friend. “What’s inside the vial?” Peggy asked, although she already knew the answer. She was there when they were taken, after all. She just didn’t know what had happened to them, until that moment. But if Stark thought he could lie to her, especially about that specific subject, especially about _him_ , he had another thing coming.

“You know what it is, Pegs. We both know.” He answered resigned, letting out a tired sigh. He knew it would be worse if he tried to mislead her, Peggy was one of the most intelligent people he knew. Trying to trick her would only bring him more problems, and he had enough of those already. “That is the last vial that holds Captain America’s blood. The last trace of Steve Rogers.”

The punch came in his direction like a wrecking ball. Her fingers wrapped in her fist with all the strength and anger she was feeling in the moment connecting as swiftly as possible with his jaw. Just as sudden as her right jab, was the pain it came with. His face felt like it was burning, catching fire, and at the same time, it was throbbing with the sensation of being hit by a ton. ‘ _Shit. I forgot how much Peggy’s punches hurt’._ A few moments passed, how much time he couldn’t say, the pain numbing his brain and the little coherence he had left was more concerned about holding his face, like his jawbone would fall off at any second, even if he knew it was impossible.

It was only moments, minutes, hours, God knows how much time had passed, that the sharp pain diminish a little, going from dilacerating to a bearable throbbing (maybe it was the swelling the man could already feel surging) that Howard became aware of his surroundings again. He was holding an ice pack against his jaw, sitting on Peggy’s bed, and, when he looked around the room for her, he found her against the farthest wall from him, with a reproachful look on her face that made him feel like a boy again, a boy who had gotten in trouble and was about to be scolded. 

“You used me. You lied to me.” Peggy said, noticing he was observing her. If the look the woman was sending him made him feel cornered, her disappointed, sad and, the worst, hurt voice tone, ended him.

“You hit me!” He said. If he was trying to justify his acts to her or to himself, he didn’t know. He only wanted her to stop looking at him that way.

“You don’t get to use my reaction to your lies as a reason for your lies, Howard!” The young woman replied loudly. He almost dodged, like her words were more punches in his direction. The way she looked at him felt like she was stabbing him with a knife in his stomach. He was the one who got punched, but Peggy’s attitude before him in that moment managed to cause him an even worse pain.

“Yes, I can! I know how much Steve meant to you, because I know how much he meant to me!” The man responded, his voice as loud as hers, and in the wake of his words, opening wounds that the two of them pretended to have already healed. Steve, so irreplaceable, so valuable, so… Steve, that, even after a year and a few months, the man still had the ability to dilacerate the people that loved him just for not being there anymore. “I was protecting you!”

“Oh, please, Howard! Don’t pretend that this is about me and my emotions. I trusted you!” She screamed. And it hurt. The aggressive words from his friend hurt. It hurt that she was so hurt and disappointed with him. It hurt that his jaw was still throbbing from the jab she gave to his jaw. But what hurt the most was the reason why they were arguing; not the omission, not his inventions being confiscated or his supposed betrayal, not his status as a fugitive, having to abuse the good will of a great friend and trick her so he could get away with it. No, what hurt the most was what that vial of blood represented the loss of a work partner, of a friend, of a lover, of an admiration, of a legend. Almost two years later, the loss of Steve Rogers still hurt.

So, Howard, who never knew much what to do with his feelings, tried to deflect the subject of its true nature. He justified that he had lied because it was already something innate to him. That growing up it was how he managed to survive, and how he managed to build his empire. That sometimes his lies were his reality. Peggy didn’t accept that explanation. No, he wouldn’t make that about him. That wouldn’t be about a boy who managed to triumph over so little opportunities. Because she already knew a story like that, and the outcome of it was, literally, in her hands. Howard didn’t have the right to make that about him.

“Why do you have Steve’s blood, after all?” The woman wanted to know, leaving the story aside and wanting to know what really mattered there. She couldn’t handle with all that mess without getting lost on all her feelings, so she tried to be the most objective as possible. Even if tears were still forming in the corner of her eyes.

“I was one of the lead scientists in Project Rebirth” He started, his voice now lower and tired, as if suddenly his strength to discuss that, to be there, vanished. “Eleven of the vials taken as soon as we completed the operation went to the government, and one came to me. And that is why I didn’t want the SSR to know what was inside of the item, that they knew it contained Steve’s blood. The government practically spent all the material available to them. Even knowing that I have it, they will never have it back. You clearing my name or not.”

“That still doesn’t mean you deserve having Steve’s blood, Howard” Peggy accused, her voice now lower too, but still sounding hurt. Still transpiring the disappointment with the millionaire, the pain he heard and saw on her every time Steve was mentioned, overflowing in her words.

“This blood… Captain America’s blood… the answers to the cure of innumerous diseases are in it, Peggy. Medicines, vaccines…” Howard replied, his voice becoming more urgent, if it was for her to stop looking at him that way, of accusing him, or to believe in him… he didn’t know. But Peggy needed to understand. “Steve may not be with us anymore, Pegs. But he still can save millions of people.”

“And how many millions of dollars will you earn with it?” The agent replied, still with the same tone. Howard couldn’t believe that, that she thought that of him, but she continued. Each one of his flaws, each one of his mistakes, she pointed out. His greed. His arrogance. His ego and selfishness. His ambition and determination to win things at whatever cost. “Steve Rogers dedicated his mind, his body, his life to the SSR and to this country… not to your bank account. I took the same oath, but I'm not as good as him… I forgot, running around for you like a corporative spy. But thank you, Howard. Thank you for reminding me of who Steve was and who I aspired to be.

Then, she turned around, telling him she needed fresh air and getting away from him, and, if Howard knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t be there when she got back. And just like that, in a blink of an eye, she left, disappearing from his sight an abandoning him with his sins and regrets.

He knew it was asking too much of her. Knew that even counting the friendship between them, he didn’t have the right to ask her for so much. But he couldn’t lose another friend. Even though he wasn’t at the frontline of the battle, the war had been horrible, and his acts still made him lose sleep and gave him nightmares. All he took from that hell they went through was the wonderful people he had beside him, like Jarvis and his wife Ana, the 107th and the Howling Commandos, Peggy and Steve. But life wasn’t perfect, and all he had left from a few of them was memories. Especially when it came to Steve. Howard just didn’t imagine that would kill him so much to think he wasn’t honoring them.

He managed to apologize, after a while. Redeem himself in Peggy’s eyes, even. But the process of that destroyed them. They say there is something cathartic hitting rock bottom when the grief for someone is still present. But nobody said how it would kill you inside. If they thought dealing with Steve’s death was difficult before, nothing prepared them for what came with the outcome of the setup against Howard.

Finding out the culprits responsible for the plot against Howard was easy, in comparison to what took to stop and arrest them. Capturing another one of his bad babies, an ingenious plan was orchestrated between him and the SSR for an ambush, which after a few developments took them to Howard’s private hangar, in which he held his planes, cars and boats. The scientist, unfortunately, was hypnotized by the psychiatrist associated with the Red Room agent, a German ex-military that blamed him for the death of his squadron in the Battle of Finow; all because McGuinnes, an American colonel, stole one of his inventions to give to the troops. Supposedly, the Midnight Oil was meant to serve as a supplement, an extra energy boost to the soldiers. With the gas incentive, they would get less tired, and, by default, would need less rest, allowing them to make more advances, with more speed. But something went wrong, and the gas effects were similarly of those from sleep deprivation, only in a bigger and more intense scale. Irritability, aggressiveness, impulsiveness: what now was practically a biological weapon turned people thirsty for destruction of others, with an almost cannibalistic desire to end the existence of all people around you. In the end, all that was left was a battlefield flooded with disfigured corpses, torn apart even, by the troops themselves, no matter which side they were on.

Fenhoff, the psychiatrist, was one of the only survivors of that blood and merciless battle, and his thirst for revenge, his desire for retribution lead him to the scientist. That was the goal when stealing Howard’s inventions, to pay him back by daring to create a weapon like that, and would do everything in his power to have Howard blamed. So, while the agents were occupied trying to capture Ms. Underwood, the physician took a chance to convince Stark to put the gas tank inside one of his planes and fly it to Manhattan, and while he was flying over the Times Square, he would release all the gas in storage over the crowd that was there. Just that very day, in which the influx of people was at its peak: it was the anniversary of the VE Day. Hundreds of thousands of people would be present, and the devastation would be unimaginable. Howard, under the control of the doctor, gladly agreed, like it was reasonable to wipe out a large part of New York’s population. 

Fenhoff not only would make him a pariah, but would make the world acknowledge the assassin Howard Stark really was. In the psychiatrist’s mind, it didn’t matter who had used the weapon on his troop, only who had created it. And the time had come for Stark to pay for his acts. Keeping him hypnotized through the transmitter in the control room, the doctor could do nothing when the SSR reached them, and even with Underwood’s amazing abilities, they were outnumbered, so it didn’t take too much for the SSR have him under its control, and the Red Room agent recognizing a losing battle, escaping before someone could stop her.

However, Howard didn’t have such luck. He was still under Fenhoff’s hypnosis, and still piloting a plane full off lethal gas towards Times Square, millions of civilians being his target. Thompson, substitute chief of the SSR in that instant, wanted to shoot the plane down. Innocent lives were at risk, and no matter how useful Stark was, they couldn’t allow a mass homicide of American civilians. The problem was that Peggy wouldn’t accept it. No, Howard was a pain in the ass, but the eccentric scientist was her friend. She couldn’t abandon him. She couldn’t lose another loved one. She couldn’t. Howard was one of the few people that believed in her, that believed in her potential as an agent, as a professional, as a person. No matter how many headaches he caused her in that last few weeks, she couldn’t abandon him. So, she made an agreement with Thompson. She would try to wake Howard from his hypnotic state through the transmitter, but agreed on somebody – that, ironically, was Mr. Jarvis, Howard’s most loyal person in that world – follow him with another one of his planes in that hangar, to shoot him down, in case the agent wouldn’t be able to free him from the hypnosis, or at least convince him to turn around.

It was with such weight on her shoulders that Peggy sat down in front of the transmitter and tried, praying and begging in her mind, to dissuade her friend. But she wasn’t expecting the words that came out from Howard’s mouth.

“Dropping to two thousand feet.” The agent could hear Howard as soon as Underwood escaped from the control room and Thompson and Sousa apprehended Fenhoff. Not stopping to catch her breath, she ran into the room to stop him from committing that insanity. “Howard, it’s Peggy!”

“Peg! I found his signal!” She heard his excited voice. They weren’t even in the same premises and she knew his face held a smile. And it was that that broke her heart even more. She knew what he was talking about, Howard didn’t need to utter another word. For the millionth time in that day, she wanted to kill the psychiatrist. When she thought he couldn’t be more cruel, the son of a bitch managed to delude Howard into thinking he was going to recover Steve. “I’m almost there!”

“No, you must listen to me.”

“I’m going to bring him home, Peg.” Howard sounded so hopeful, so happy. It had been a year and Steve’s loss still hurt like it had been yesterday the day they lost him. Each one of them felt guilty about it in some way, for some reason. She and Howard more intensely, and she knew the scientist didn’t forgive himself for not finding him. But, even wanting to be inside the illusion Howard was in, believing that was possible to find Steve, that it was possible to bring him back, she needed to remind herself of the reality, with a heavy heart, that she had lost him and wouldn’t get him back. The most important thing in that moment was not to lose another person she loved. She needed to stop Howard, no matter what. Even if that conversation was dilacerating her inside.

“Fenhoff has put that fantasy in your mind.” She said, the smooth tone contrasting with the anguish in her voice. Please, God, don’t take her friend too. “He is trying to get you to blow the gas over civilians.”

“Don’t worry about that, Peg. There are no civilians where I am.” Replied the man, that because of the doctor’s intervention, believe to be in a field of ice. It was there. It was there that he was, and the scientist was instants away from finding him.

“Howard, can you hear me? You must come back.” The woman begged, voice breaking in the middle of the phrase. That couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be losing another person so important to her. Closing her eyes, with her face resting on the transmitter’s microphone, Peggy made a small and silent pray. Please, stop this insanity. Please, don’t take him too.

“I know this sounds crazy, but that guy, Fenhoff, he actually helped me. He showed me how to do this. I’m bringing Cap back, Peg. Back home. No more talking.”

“Howard, turn the plane around. Come back and we will talk about it.”

“I can’t do that. I’m done talking.

“No, wait!” She screamed. Her desperation, which was already high, reached alarming levels. She needed to do something, but what?

“Ms. Carter, I have Mr. Stark’s plane in my sight. We are one mile from land.” And, at the same time, Mr. Jarvis voice sounded through the other transmitter, tense, reminding her that there were mere instants left before she could dissuade her friend or would be forced to make a decision she didn’t want to, for the civilians’ sake.

She had such knowledge when she took the pledge to join the armed forces. She would live for the people, to the people, and by the people. The greater good would always be a priority. But, if she was being honest, she couldn’t handle losing people she loved anymore so others could move on with their lives in a blissful ignorance. It was a moment of weakness, of selfishness, and she knew as soon as that crisis had passed, she would regret such thoughts.

Confused, stuck and helpless while her friend’s life was at risk, she couldn’t help but to resent that reality. First it was Michael, her brother. Killed in action, giving his life for his country. She was barely of age. And then, Steve. Technically, they weren’t a couple. But he was a potential something. A potential lover. A potential who knows what. A potential maybe. A potential almost. Eternally, a potential that she would never uncover.

And, since fate couldn’t get enough of torturing Peggy Carter, now it was Howard. Colleague. Companion. Friend. Peggy certainly knew her value, and didn’t need anybody to remind her. But Howard, even getting her in trouble and almost getting her arrested, he believed in her. Howard saw her as a person, and trusted in her potential. Exactly like Michael and Steve. And, just like them, she was losing him.

“Ms. Carter, should I take the shot? Ms. Carter! Ms. Carter! Can you hear me? Ms. Carter! Please, answer me!” The desperate voice of Edwin Jarvis sounded through the room. Lost in thought, in her fear, in her hesitation of having to take a decision she didn’t know if she could, she didn’t respond him. And she didn’t want to.

“No, I need more time!”

“We don’t have more time!” The man’s voice echoed loudly, a little higher and it would turn into a scream. The tension was stratospheric, and normally she would take offense of being addressed with such a tone, but there was no way of not worrying in that moment. And with the same desperate urgency, she replied him.

“Do not take the shot until I tell you, Mr. Jarvis!” Peggy needed to calm down. She needed to breathe, and she needed to think. The clock was against her, and the agent didn’t have such luxury. She had to dissuade Howard, but the only way she could think of was telling the truth that hurt the most. They were words that burned her inside, that devoured her soul in a mass of anguish and agony, and facts that drowned her in an ocean of pain every single second. With the passing of time, it got easier to ignore, but she never forgot the black hole she carried inside her. Of the hypothetic wound in her chest that bled with every memory, pulsed with every thought of him, and smashed her with a tsunami of misery. But she didn’t have any other option. Rationalizing with him wasn’t working, and her pleads were going into one ear and out of the other. So, she supposed, the agonizing truth would have to do the work. Even if it made her feel like she was reliving it all. Even if every time it killed her admitting out loud, exactly like she was about to do.

“Howard, Steve is gone. He died over a year ago.” Peggy spoke softly, the tears finally streaming down freely on her face. What a cruel fate, what an unfair universe. Once again, she was arguing with a pilot to not sacrifice his life, stuck in a control room, helpless, with nothing else she could do.

“There’s something up ahead. It’s him! I can fix this!” Howard sounded positively excited, and that was the worst, because in another life, in another universe… maybe that would be possible. Maybe he could really rescue Steve. But that wasn’t that reality. It was so bittersweet, to have the opportunity, but it could never materialize itself. If Thompson and Sousa hadn’t taken Fenhoff, she would have killed him right there, with her bare hands. It was one of the cruelest things she had to go through.

“You don’t have to fix anything, Howard.” With every second it became more and more familiar, and she couldn’t do it. Why? Why was fate doing that to her once more? It was like she was back in that room inside the Swiss Alps, hearing Steve saying goodbye, telling her little white lies to distract them both from the fact that he was heading to his death and there was nothing she could do.

“Peg...” The scientist started, his tone losing a little of its excitement, taking a smoother characteristic, more… vulnerable. Howard was, most of the time, an arrogant bastard, but in that moment, he almost sounded humble. “All I’ve done my whole life was to create destruction. Project Rebirth was… he was the one thing I’ve done that brought good into this world.”

“Oh, Howard... I know you loved him. I loved him too. But this won’t bring him back.” The agent lamented. How could she get out of that alive? Her heart was being compressed and tightened more and more, and her breath was lost to her lungs. Maybe she wouldn’t have to suffer from Steve’s loss anymore, because she wasn’t certain anymore if she could survive with such broken heart. Her mother always told her off for not behaving like a girl, always playing rough with her brother. It seemed that she would join her boys, after all. “Howard, you are the one person in this world who believes in me. I cannot lose you. Steve is gone. We have to move on, all of us. As impossible as it may sound, we have to let him go.”

Not getting an answer for a few moments, she knew then that was a lost battle. It was the end. Mr. Jarvis announced that there were seconds left before they would be flying over the coast, and then the city, and the agent knew the chance was gone. Like always, she would sacrifice a part of herself, a loved one, so that millions of people could live to see another day. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. She wanted to scream and lash out, but, in the end, there was a job to be done. She knew she had to do it, even if she wasn’t sure how would she live with that decision. With tears rolling freely on her checks, her heart breaking into a million pieces and asking Howard for forgiveness silently, she turned into Mr. Jarvis’ transmitter, ready to give the man the order to shoot down the plane. But, as she took a breath to utter the words she never wanted to, Howard’s voice sounded through the room once more.

“Peg? He was good before I got a hold on him, huh?” Asked him, sounding more coherent now, and yet completely confused. She couldn’t believe it. He had woken up from the illusion.

“Yes. Yes, yes, he was. Where are you?” She asked urgently, wanted to confirm, but it came out in a mix of a sob with a relived laughter.

“Evidently flying a plane. To Manhattan. I guess you can explain that to me when I land.” When she heard that answer, she closed her eyes and thanked mentally, letting the last teardrops fall from her eyes into her relived and tearful smile. Taking a quick breath, she returned to the Mr. Jarvis’s transmitter, informing him their friend was lucid once more. “Mr. Jarvis, he’s alright. Stand down.”

“Thank Goodness.” Said the man, also breathing relived, and sounding extremely tired. “Tell Mr. Stark to follow me back. I’ll bring him home.”

Despite everyone’s wish to solve that case once and for all immediately, it wasn’t what really happened. Howard’s name was supposedly clean in the media, but he hadn’t gone through all the legal process yet. It also had all the bureaucracy from Chief Dooley’s death, Thompson’s taking of the office, Peggy’s brief imprisonment, the dead agents. It was pure headache, but to Agent Carter and Mr. Stark, that headache was welcoming, because it meant a distraction from what had happened in the hangar and Howard’s plane. A punch in the stomach didn’t get close to describe the whole situation, which did nothing to help in the process of overcoming the loss of their friend. But distractions didn’t last forever. To Peggy, in the SSR, it was a little simpler, since – unfortunately – she wasn’t the one responsible, after all. Her reports and testimony ready, she occupied herself with organizing the office and the lab, but, in a few days, everything went back to normal in the SSR Headquarters, and she didn’t have any other options but to reflect what she didn’t want to, since they hadn’t assigned her to a new case yet, and Dottie Underwood still hadn’t left any lead to her current whereabouts.

Because the turmoil of being arrested for treason by helping Howard, she was expelled from the building she lived, the Griffith. Angie, one of the few friends she had, unfortunately had suffered the consequences with her, and had to move out too, since she was the one who had recommended Peggy to take the vacant room. The good news was that they didn’t have to worry about it for very long, since Howard, feeling guilty for being the reason the two women didn’t have any place to live and in a completely altruistic action, offered his penthouse for the two of them to stay, giving them time to look for a decent place calmly, without having to worry where they would sleep at night.

That was how, certain afternoon where she came early from work, she found Mr. Jarvis waiting for her. The agent thought it strange, since he had accompanied Howard in his latest trip – a few days in Washington not only to clear his name once and for all, but also to clear the air with some influent people who he had business with and with whom that whole situation had complicated the relations. After that, he headed to Los Angeles, where one of the Stark Industries head offices was located, and various others business which demanded his attention. It was the reason why Peggy didn’t mind accepting the offer of living temporarily in Howard’s penthouse. The other one was that she didn’t have the mind strength to look for another place, the problems from work and from her last mission demanding all of her attention.

It was the reason she was surprised with the presence of the British man clearly waiting for her in the living room, since his eyes shone with a little more determination when he saw her, even if his face was still a serious mask. When she asked him, curious, the reason he was there and not in California, Mr. Jarvis handed her an object that she recognized immediately. While taking in her hands the glass object she knew so well, she asked him why he was giving her that. Peggy had assumed that the vial was back with Howard again, since she hadn’t managed to recover it from the SSR after Chief Dooley’s death and that whole mess, she couldn’t find it anywhere in the organization. Mr. Jarvis told her that the scientist was also discussing the return of his inventions by the SSR, with the intention of destructing them, believing that they shouldn’t exist, or even be in the hands of any government. She found it funny that after that whole mess, Howard was giving her the vial of blood. At the same time, she noticed the irony, her heart tightened inside her for having with her a piece of Steve, once again. Questioning him, when she noticed that it was the man in front of her that decided to give the vial to her, he answered:

“Mr. Stark is under the impression that the Captain’s blood was lost while he was under the control of Dr. Fenhoff. I owe a lot to Howard Stark, but he isn’t the owner of my integrity. I am convicted that there is only one person in this whole world who knows what to do with this. You, Ms. Carter.” He told her, before giving her an intuitive look and a small smile, and walking out of the room.

Peggy just kept staring at the object in her hands. She didn’t know how much time had passed, instants or minutes, looking at the last piece she had of Steve. It was wonderful. It was the worst pain she ever felt. Having proof of his existence, and the proof that he was gone, in the same piece of glass. She was so comforted knowing that she didn’t lost another part of him, and, surprisingly and inexplicably, immensely sad knowing that it was just that: a part of him. It wasn’t his presence. It wasn’t his person, his laughter, his determined, stubborn and gentle attitude. It wasn’t the man that left her in Switzerland with only a kiss and a promise of a date never fulfilled. It wasn’t her Steve, coming back to her.

And then she knew. She knew that in addition of hurting to have that part of him with her, if she kept it with her, she would never get over it. The wound would never heal. In the same way that she knew she couldn’t risk, even if she desperately wanted to, even if her heart begged her, to keep the last part of Steve Rogers with her. It was too dangerous, there would always be someone to find out, to try to steal it and use Steve’s blood for their own benefit. Like she said when she convinced Dooley to release her, she just wanted another chance to protect him, since she hadn’t managed to the first time. But this time, she decided convicted, she would be successful. She just couldn’t throw it in the sink. Steve deserved more than that. She owed him at least this.

With those thoughts in mind, she took her coat from the couch and left the room, the apartment, the building. Where to? She didn’t know. Just knew that the room’s walls were closing in on her, compressing her, stopping her from breathing. She had to get out. She had to find a way to honor Steve for the last time. And, so, she went through the streets of New York, looking for a way to say goodbye for the last time.

Going to the Brooklyn wasn’t easy. She had been there since she took residency in the States after the war, specifically in New York, but it didn’t make things easier. It was obvious it would remind her of Steve. How could it not? Each step she took in the neighborhood brought a memory of the Captain, whether it was from the car ride they both shared with him telling her stories of his childhood in the neighborhood, whether it was from memories of him telling her details from it during the war, always with a tone half happy, half nostalgic.

The first time she had been there since becoming an American resident, Peggy had to fight the tears every step she took, and lost in every one of them. It hadn’t become easier in the other visits, but the tears hadn’t left her eyes since the first time. Until that moment.

In the evening, walking through the Brooklyn Bridge, with the sun setting and the skyscrapers from Manhattan decorating the scenery, together with the Atlantic underneath her… Peggy felt the immensely need to cry. Since the end of the war she hadn’t felt this close to Steve and, at the same time, hadn’t missed him so much like in that moment. Not just because the man loved that place, but because everything reminded her of him. Like how Steve would love to paint the landscape that was before her eyes. Like how he would talk about the shades of every color that painted in the sky, and how he would get that result in a canvas. How Steve would explain to her everything about what they saw there. How Steve should have been there, with his arm holding hers, his body next to hers while they talked about everything and nothing at the same time. Not like how she wasn’t supposed to be there alone, holding a vial of his blood, the last physical proof of his existence as a person, and not the legend and icon everyone saw him those days. So, in an act of masochism, the young woman walked the bridge slowly, her eyes devouring everything surrounding her, her mind torturing her with thoughts of the only man she had ever really loved and that wasn’t there anymore. Holding the vial with such strength that it was almost to the point of breaking into her hands, she held the object with more success than the tears in her eyes.

However, when she noticed the sun disappearing on the blue horizon where the Hudson River met the ocean, the orange, pink, and lavender tones decorating the sky, and the city lights from the city that never slept turning on, the woman knew the moment had come. It was time, for the last time, to say goodbye.

She had said goodbye to Steve three times until that moment.

In the excruciating occasion of his death, where she sat helpless and succumbing while hearing he shoot down the airplane. It was, by far, the worst thing she ever heard in her life. She, a federal agent, a spy during the war trained to undergo torture and to torture enemies. Hearing Steve dying it was like hearing a part of her dying.

The second time, was the next night, where the Captain’s death was announced to the troop after they took the Hydra base and when Dum Dum suggested a celebration to celebrate the life and mourn the death of Steve Rogers, the agent couldn’t help but to join the boys, drinking more than her weight in alcohol, hearing and sharing stories about the great leader, boss, companion and friend every one of them had lost. Nor could she help the deep, desperate sobs that left her body when the drinks got the upper hand on her self-control in front of the Howling Commandos. Every one of them were mourning like her, and every one of them shed at least a few tears with her, while she was being hugged by Dum Dum. Who was comforting who, they couldn’t tell. It hurt. It hurt like hell, it hurt like her soul was being ripped from her body. It hurt like she was his him, feeling the impact of going against the ice, like she was feeling the freezing water from the ocean dominating every particle of her being. It hurt like she knew it would hurt life without Steve Rogers.

However, Peggy triumphed. She got through that night, even if every miserable particle of her protested. Even if her heart was telling her it wasn’t right. Even if her mind knew that nothing would ever be the same. She triumphed because of him. Because that was his choice, and like she told him when they lost Barnes, she had to honor that choice, even if it killed her inside. And, so, dawn came. The world still was completely desynchronized, like the sun had risen from the wrong side. Everything was wrong there. But she was alive, to the contrary of what she had thought the night before, when the pain consumed her body and she had mentally prayed to be taken with him. She had survived, and even if it hurt, now Peggy knew she could keep doing that. Surviving, without Steve.

And that was how she managed to say goodbye to Steve Rogers for the third time, at his official funeral. In Arlington, the military cemetery in Washington, with all the fuss and parade that Steve hated so much. It felt more like a circus than a funeral, and the agent wanted to laugh at the irony, because if anyone there knew at least one per cent of the person he was, they would know he wouldn’t have liked any of that. But she knew it was protocol, so she had to settle for sitting next colonel Philips, honoring Captain America. And, at the same time, she couldn’t help the silent tears and tiny sobs upon seeing the casket – empty, since there wasn’t a body to be buried – going into the ground, with the flag Steve honored so much adorning the wooden object, and the firing from the guard in his honor. Even though she knew nothing of that would please the man and he would have hated it all, she couldn’t suppress the suffocating feeling of drowning in her on breath, every time she thought of Steve’s death. She tried to be indifferent. She already had mourned him. She had already honored him, celebrated him. But it was like nothing was enough when it came to Steve Rogers. So, the least she could do was to suffer in silence, saying goodbye one more time to the love of her life, while seeing the casket that represented his person being buried, returning to the earth, where it came from. Something his body would never be able to do. 

She had expected that was the last goodbye she would’ve to say to Steve, but since Mr. Jarvis gave her the vial of blood, Peggy knew nobody could own it ever again. Not even her. And so, once again, the agent knew she couldn’t throw it through the sink. Steve may be dead, but he still deserved respect. Maybe it was ironic, since the agent had accused him of being dramatic so many times, but if she had to put an end to his last trace, she would have to do it right.

It was while she was walking without destination in mind through the city, trying to decide what she would do, that she knew. Brooklyn had become a physical reminder of Steve, and, walking through the bridge trying to clear her mind, she knew exactly what end to give for the last part of him, an ending it deserved. Therefore, moment after moment of trying to gather a courage she didn’t have, gathering an emotional preparation that wouldn’t last an instant after the deed, the woman stopped at a point in the bridge and turned around into the direction of the river and the ocean. After taking many breaths, Peggy knew she would never be ready to give up any part of Steve. And that was why it was the right moment, since if she didn’t do it, she would never do. And she couldn’t allow it.

With a last sigh, tears dropping from her eyes and running through her face, streaming down her cheeks until they fell from her jaw; her lips trembling, trying to contain a compulsive crying that threatened to overcome her body, she whispered with a shaking, low voice, like it was meant just for him, while she turned the vial and observed the red liquid leaving its glass container and meeting the water, ceasing to exist in a blink of an eye, just like the man it once belonged to.

“Goodbye, my darling.”

Staring at the horizon, trying and not succeeding to control the tears, the crying, the dilacerating pain, Peggy thought there was something poetic into spilling Steve’s blood into the ocean. Maybe it didn’t make sense to any other person, but, to Peggy, she was giving his blood back to him. Allowing that, at some level, in some way, his blood returned to him, joined his body, lost in the freezing waters of the Atlantic. Steve Rogers had given his life for his country, but he didn’t need to give his blood for it. That, Peggy made sure when he was with her, and would keep making sure now that he was resting to eternity somewhere in the immense ocean in front of her: Steve Rogers would always be his own person, and nobody could have him for themselves, not even a tiny piece. Even if that meant that person was her. If Steve’s body was in the ocean, may the rest of it come to his encounter. May his blood return to him. May the deep red diluted into purple, into lavender, may it turn into blue. Into ocean blue, immense before her, that now it was the eternal guardian of the Captain. Into the blue of his uniform, that he honored with such pride. Into the blue of his eyes, the ones she would never forget, forever in love with the man they belonged to. And she expected, with all her heart, with all her being, that that was the very last time she would have to say goodbye to Steve. Because she didn’t know if she could survive another one.

Obviously, nothing was okay for a while. It had already been an… _intense_ experience for the parties involved, but Steve’s involvement, even if it was indirect, caught them by surprise, and of course, affected as much as when the lost him. Howard had nightmares, even months later, of Fenhoff’s hypnosis. He dreamed he knew where Steve was, he would go there only to find his body missing. He dreamed of never finding where Steve was, and that Peggy would blame him for it. He dreamed of the night they lost him, with Peggy throwing in his face that was his blame they wouldn’t find him. He dreamed every night of every possibility, and in each one of them, _he_ was the reason they didn’t have Steve there. He would wake up sweaty, panting, and not even his _companions_ or his lab would take his mind off such thoughts. The drinking helped, sometimes, but he couldn’t help but to believe in what his mind said to him. That’s why he kept the expeditions to the artic to find the Valkyrie and Steve. The first one, just as the summer after Steve was gone came, he didn’t think twice before going into one of his boat-expedition and going after the Captain. The frustration, the anger, the hurt that came when the season ended and it wasn’t possible anymore to be in that region without freezing to death too was so huge that he almost quit. However, after that experience, Howard knew he wouldn’t have peace if he didn’t find Steve.

Of course, his guilt hadn’t been the only reason. It wasn’t even the main reason. Howard was used to feeling guilty. With the amount of mistakes he made until that point in his life, the guilt was an old friend. No, what gave him even more determination was Peggy. Peggy, his friend who could look through his eccentricity, his impulsiveness, his arrogance, his egocentrism and the mask he used. Peggy, his friend, his confidant, one of the people he trusted the most in the world. Peggy, who had to listen to the love of her life dying thousands of miles away without being able to do something. Peggy, who had to repeat this experience and relive one the worst moments of her life while desperately trying to convince him to turn the plane around, while listening his delusions of bringing Steve back. Peggy, who was so strong, so stubborn, so confident.

Peggy, who a few months after that whole mess, was sitting in the bar in his living room, when he arrived in his penthouse in New York late at night after a business trip in Europe. All of the SSR, the 107th squadron and mainly the Howling Commandos knew how the woman could hold her liquor. She could even keep up with Dum Dum, who could drink an entire bottle of bourbon without getting at least a little tipsy. It was with that knowledge that he was surprised to find her completely drunk in the middle of the night. She was sitting in the stalls, in one of her pantsuits, the curls of her hair already becoming flat and her make-up not so impeccable as it always was when he saw her. She was holding a glass of whiskey against her cheek, the eyes closed and her face marked by tears. Howard didn’t wat to disturb her, his intuition suggesting what the motive for that was – the same from his nightmares at night – but he couldn’t leave his friend alone in that condition. Trying not to scare her, he made soft noises, giving away his arrival, and even then she didn’t open her eyes or even made a move, except from a sigh so painful that hurt even the man himself. He would have to be less subtle, then. Getting closer, and opening his mouth to announce his arrival, her voice interrupted him.

“I am so sorry for invading your personal stash, Howard, but what I had in mine ended very quickly. I don’t need to mention that the SSR doesn’t pay me enough to cover what the good establishments offer, and I feel it isn’t a good idea to go to those that accept what I can pay at this time of the night.” The woman spoke, her voice low and serious, the small slowness on her speech was the only indication that the alcohol was doing its job. The significance of the “what I can pay” was implicit. Everyone who really knew Peggy, knew how much pride she felt for the position she held in an area dominated by men, but they also knew her frustration of not making the same as her male colleagues. But it wasn’t like Howard minded sharing his liquor, he had more than he could drink in a year. At the moment, he was worried about his friend. Since she was aware of his presence – who was he trying to fool, thinking he could surprise a spy – he didn’t see any more reason to continue being subtle, instead joining his friend at the bar in large steps, taking a seat beside her, and reaching to take a glass and serving a dose for himself.

“Relax, Pegs. I already told you to feel at home here. Even if it means attacking my personal stash.” He said, jokingly. When he didn’t receive a reaction, the scientist sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to distract her from what was on her mind. They would address it, then. Normally he avoided sentimental discussions with other people, but for Peggy he would make an exception. “Hard day at work?”

“No, not really. Not so many juvenile nuisances as usual. My main mission still has no leads, so I’m helping the others. Coffee, lunch orders, archive management. Nothing they haven’t delegated to me yet.” She responded, sighing again and taking a long sip of her drink, finishing it and then refilling the glass until almost the end. Howard knew it would be useless trying to stop her, so he just followed her lead. “Until the middle of the afternoon, of course. Agent Smith was responsible for bringing a team from Alaska, I don’t remember the details well, and I was the responsible for debriefing him when he got to the airport. Expect our flight controller had to leave, his wife was in labor, you know? Since I have the experience, I took his place. I had to wait there for them, anyway, why not be useful?” She asked rhetorically, another big sip of the amber liquid going through her lips and rapidly down her throat.

“Well, we had the infortune of part of the Atlantic not being in good conditions for flying. Surprisingly, isn’t it? In December. What an unexpected turn! And I had to coordinate the situation. All was good, all was amazingly great, until a fucking snowstorm hit them in the Alaska Golf and cut the communication. I don’t know, I think I’ve seen this movie before. For a goddamn reason, everything about it felt familiar. It wasn’t like I had to try and reestablish the communication with an airplane in the middle of the ice, lost in the snow before, right? It wasn’t like I had called, and called, and called but not received an answer before, right? It wasn’t like I had lost someone in mid-flight before, isn’t it right?” The agent inquired, with each question her voice becoming harder and harder, her body tenser, her eyes wetter. At the final question, her voice broke, and silent tears rolled down vigorously from her eyes. Both of them knew she wasn’t supposed to be telling him any that. Such mission, like each and every one from the SSR, was confidential. Both of them didn’t care. It hurt him seeing the strongest woman he knew suffering that way, but the man knew that, drunk or not, Peggy Carter didn’t accept pity. So he pretended to not see it, just asking her: “What happened, then?”

“Smith was forced to land on the coast of Canada. He told me the coordinates of the plane, so that the team of the base closest to them could be reached and give them support. I was informed hours later that they were safe and sound at Fort Richardson, close to the coast of the golf. Impressive, huh? What a few simple coordinates can do? What having connections with bases around the world can do. Why haven’t we thought of that, right? Maybe it was because we never needed before, I guess!” Peggy stated, her voice getting louder and louder, until the last word out of her mouth sound like a scream. Howard wasn’t surprised by her reaction. He was expecting it in Switzerland. He was expecting it when his small and not-so-fun adventure with the hypnosis ended. It seemed that the third time is really a charm, then.

For somebody who avoided feeling, his heart hurt for his friend. Going through that with Steve dilacerated her inside. Going through that with Howard was almost unbearable, the fear of losing a friend, the memories of the situation with Cap, the fear of putting the life of millions of civilians and innocents at risk was an immeasurable stress for anyone. But she was surrounded by friends and colleagues. Howard didn’t get even the tiniest bit close to the artic. It all worked out in the end. This time, by what she was telling? It was hitting too close to the wound to be ignored. No, that was too much, he could admit. He could barely imagine what she was feeling, but knew that, for the first time ever, he would have to be the strong and sensible of the two of them.

“Pegs, I… I, well, don’t have the words for how much this must have been horrible. I’m glad that the team is okay, but I know that must have brought to life memories you rather forget, and I….” but Howard could never complete what he was saying.

“Fuck the memories! Howard, with the radio with static, with the communication cutting, at thousands of miles away... I got their localization, Howard. They landed in the ocean, and I got to save them, because I knew the goddamned, the bloody, the fucking coordinates! I got to save them, Howard! In a matter of hours, they were safe and sound in a military base, and tomorrow they will be back in this bloody city! Don’t you get it? Do you understand what this means? I could have saved him! I could have prevented his death, I could have gotten him a rescue team and he would be safe and sound too, and he would be here tomorrow to... I could have saved him, Howard!” The agent declared screaming. In all the years he had known Peggy, he had never seen her lost composure. He could count with the fingers of one hand the number of times he saw her crying. Screams didn’t affect him anymore, he had been in the army, in the middle of a war. But in the situation that she was in? Proclaiming with all her breath, with all the force of her lungs, the eyes red and swollen, tears that streamed like waterfalls from her eyes… he had never seen her like that.

And that shocked him. He knew Peggy was having a hard time dealing with Steve’s loss, since the end of the war. Nothing out of the ordinary, nobody in their circle was dealing with it easily. But since the incident with his plane, she was different. Quieter. A little down. More introspective and with more pain in her eyes that he had ever seen. Howard knew that such event had affected her, but until that night, he didn’t know how much. Peggy was amazing at masking her feelings, at disguising what she felt, what she thought. But after what happened that afternoon, he wasn’t surprised at all with her reaction. What surprised him was not noticing how what happened had affected her. And, because of that, he felt terrible.

“Peggy… you know I wanted to save him, too.” He started, uncertain. He knew of his guilt, and part of him imagined that the woman blamed him in the real life as much as she blamed him in his dreams. Knowing she blamed herself instead of him caught him by surprise. “But… Steve didn’t give us the option. There wasn’t time. Those missiles… he had to put an end to them, or they would destroy the country, Peggy.” It was what the bigger part of his mind kept telling him, the rational truth. Unfortunately, Howard was human, and the rational didn’t make sense one hundred per cent of the time. That was one of those times. Just having to explain it to Peggy, who he knew understood this already, that understood Steve’s choice, but apparently didn’t know how to accept it… it was enlightening. Of course, feelings weren’t rational, but he was starting to convince himself that he was to blame. But he wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault, neither it was Peggy’s. By the way she started to cry compulsively, she also knew. And it wasn’t something that made them feel better.

“I know. I know, I know, I know.” She repeated, crying. Howard had to look to the ceiling to avoid his own tears from leaving his eyes. It didn’t work, and with that he drank the entire glass of whiskey and served them both again. He shouldn’t give more to Peggy, but if she was feeling half as bad as he was… who was he to deny her an escape, even if it was temporary? “I know it was his choice. I know it was the right thing. I know it was for the best. But I… I can’t stop thinking that I could have convinced him otherwise. That we could have thought about another solution. That I could have saved him…” Now, her every word was becoming smoother, all its force from before going to her crying. He almost couldn’t hear what she said after. “If at least he had given me the coordinates, I could have brought him home, if I hadn’t managed to save him. I would get to see him one more time, one last time, and maybe say goodbye for real, and not feel so incomplete.”

Her quiet confession caught him unprepared, like many of her attitudes that night. Peggy was always so controlled, so contained, always keeping everything inside. It seemed that Steve was the only one who could open her to the world, whether it was in life, whether it was after death. Howard felt terrible knowing that the agent felt that way. He knew she loved Steve. He knew she missed him. He just didn’t know how much until seeing her checks completely wet, her face red and swollen, her complexion the translation of pure sorrow. He wanted to say something to make it better. Admitting his own guilt wouldn’t do any good, he knew. It would only make it worse. But was there anything that would make it better? Was there anything to cover the hole and emptiness that Steve left behind?

“There was no time, Pegs. I made the calculations. With his altitude, and the speed he was going… it was surprising that you guys got so much time, really, there was simply no time.”

“Time, huh? If I could, I would make time. I would make him have as much time as possible, so that he could give me his coordinates. Oh, bloody hell, I would go back in time if I could and stop him from going into that plane. Or I would go with him.” Peggy said, quietly, but with conviction never seen before. “But it seems that, after all, time is our greatest enemy. We didn’t have time for much. We didn’t have time to what we wanted. We didn’t have time to save him. If I could only go back in time...” She said, closing her eyes and resting her arms in the bar counter, and her head in her arms, the tears quickly leaving them wet. Only Howard had disconnected after her first words.

The danger of having a brilliant mind, of having an impulsivity impossible to contain and having alcohol available, was that he had ideas like that. _If they could only go back in time…_ well, it wasn’t surprising, coming from him, and maybe, despite being insane and surely almost impossible… well, he made a car fly, didn’t he? And had helped transform a guy who was a breeze away from his death bed into the healthiest person in the world in matter of seconds. Certainly he could manage to discover how to time travel?

Finally looking at Peggy, who still had the eyes and cheeks wet, but was almost falling asleep, from the drinking and the whole situation she been through that day, he kissed her hair and said to her:

“Don’t you worry, Pegs. Even if you think I’m a fool. Even if it takes me a million days. I’ll give you the future you gave away. I’ll do all these things for you.” Howard whispered in her ear, not caring that she wouldn’t remember it the next day, he would. Then, he got up, seeing her eyes closing, and went looking for Jarvis or Angie to help him to put her into her bed.

As far as he knew, he was on schedule. Six months after that night, when summer came around to the north hemisphere and like the two prior years, he sailed to the artic, looking for Steve. No, he hadn’t given up on his idea, or left it aside. No, he still didn’t think it was crazy. In fact, he was reading a whole theory about astrophysics on the journey, to decide where he would begin. It was a long trip, he had the time and the confidence that he could do it. But, at times, it was difficult to stay confident. The days on the boat were the same, surrounded by the blue of the ocean and the white of the glaciers on the horizon. Nothing close, nobody near. Day after day, no sign of the Valkyrie. It was discouraging, and at times he almost convinced himself it was impossible. But, then, images of Peggy came to mind. Peggy, who alternated periods of numbness with periods of depression after the end of the war, after Steve went down. Her voice in his memories, hoarse and filled with hurt, telling him it wasn’t necessary rescuing the Captain, that he had been gone for so long, and it was time for them to move on. And, the memory that didn’t leave his mind: the image of Peggy crying, sobbing, telling him it was her fault, and if she could, she would have saved him.

Such images prevented him from giving up. It was them, together with his own memories of the great Captain, that convinced him it was worth it, when everyone and everything told him the contrary and tried to prove him wrong. It was a battle, inside of him, but most of the days, Peggy and Steve won, and it was all he needed to keep going. Especially in a certain august day, when he was retaking the route in the Atlantic from Europe until the coast of America for the fourth or fifth time. That year’s expedition was almost over, since fall was approaching and despite being less chilled than winter, they weren’t prepared to endure such coldness. He didn’t even know if it was possible, without the right training. But, it didn’t matter. Because, in the middle of august, Howard found a treasure in the chilling waters he was navigating on.

It wasn’t without a reason that that wasn’t the first time he was retaking that route. Besides being the most logical decision, considering that was the route Steve took, in all the other times, his radars kept detecting a curious signal, not exactly infrared, nor any other type of material that would leave such a… significant trace. The scientist always thought it was Steve’s plane, but in that day, he had the confirmation that Cap wasn’t anywhere near there. The wave of disappointment came, of course, and he couldn’t help but to feel disgruntled, but the surprise that follow triumphed over those feeling. Curious to know what was messing with his radar, he ordered that the crew rescued whatever it was from the sea.

Of course, nothing prepared him for the shock of what he later would find out to be the Tesseract on his boat. Stark could not know the name of the object in that moment, but the blue glow gave away what that was. And he couldn’t help but to feel excited. If that thing was capable to disintegrate adult bodies in milliseconds, he was sure it would be helpful somehow. The only problem it was that the object played a significant part in Steve’s loss, in which his fight for freeing it from Schmidt’s hands, he ended up giving his life for that never to be found. And, remembering Peggy’s words from when she found out about the vial of blood, he knew she wouldn’t agree with that. But if the price of being able to bring him back was using such monstrosity, he was willing to pay it. Howard was willing to pay whatever price to have his friend back and reunite him with Peggy.

It was why, once back in New York, he didn’t tell the agent what he had found. Actually, she didn’t even know about his searches for the Captain. She knew about the first two, of course, but Howard couldn’t handle seeing her hopeless eyes when he came back empty handed and without news, so he stopped telling her about them. Obviously, being Peggy Carter, she knew what he was doing. But not admitting out loud gave them an excuse to pretend that wasn’t happening, and if it wasn’t happening, there wasn’t reason to be disappointed. Even if she was crestfallen each time he was back, and she could feel his disheartened spirit.

She was suspicious, of course, when he came back that time more excited than usual. Howard tried to conceal it, but if there was something the scientist didn’t know how to do, was to be subtle. Peggy observed him with an inquisitive look, calculating, eyes narrowed, trying to find out his secret. But, after a few days, when nothing changed, she ended up assuming it was something about his business, and, reluctantly, left it alone. She still kept an eye on him, but with her new position in Los Angeles, she was too busy to worry about what he was hiding, which was good, since she was staying in his house in the city. He had to follow her, since nobody could know what he was planning, so he couldn’t use any of his labs, and the scientist didn’t trust Chief Thompson, the chief of the New York offices, not to snoop his house in the Big Apple.

It was good that Peggy was too busy trying to solve murders and accidents in energy companies, since it gave him space to work on his project, even if everyone thought he was involved in a supposed movie production. It wasn’t one of his best excuses, but giving his eccentricity, nobody suspected anything. And, while Peggy’s case was developing along the way, he was finding more and more tools to reach his objective. The discovery of the Zero Matter helped him with a lot of progress, and keeping some of it when the mess with the case ended, he was almost there.

But something was missing. Months had passed since he had any type of progress, and even with the doubtful, but powerful combination of the Tesseract with the Zero Matter, that wasn’t working. The problem was that no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t discover how to make it work. In the night that he came up with that idea, even knowing it was impossible, it seemed so easy. Maybe it was his ego clouding his judgement, but he wasn’t expecting to be really impossible. Even putting together the Tesseract with the Zero Matter didn’t work. He couldn’t find an energy source intense enough to hold the portal that the Tesseract supposedly opened. How did Schmidt manage it?

In the end, time, exactly the one thing he was trying to manipulate, had gone by. Howard would still go on expeditions, but now they were shorter. He still researched the subject, looked for specialists, discussed it with astrophysicists, but it was far in between. Peggy was seeing a friend from work. She, Howard and Colonel Philips founded a new intelligence agency. And Howard met Maria…

The years went by, but he hadn’t given up. He didn’t have time like he did before, but he kept honoring the promise he made to Peggy, and didn’t stopped looking for an answer. When he could, he tried. But life happens… and so does death.


	2. part two

**2015**

Each one of them admitted it was bizarre. The first time they were all together in the same room, three years ago, they were practically at each other’s throat – some even literally. How could Fury trust they would make a good team, nobody could understand. But, ironically, it became true. It had taken the death of a common friend and an alien invasion, but they did it. They had become a great team. And, even though nobody could explain it, they’ve become more. They’ve become good friends, and in a totally dysfunctional and non-logical way, they’ve become something of a family.

Since Tony had to reform the tower after the attack – just like the most of New York – and he knew that wasn’t the first and last time they would be needed, the younger Stark built in the top floors something like an Avengers headquarters. He still got to keep his penthouse and his lab, but it didn’t make a difference for him to add a few apartment floors for his friends, training gyms and a meeting room. He wouldn’t admit it even under torture, but Tony loved having them around. Of course, not all of it was sunshine and rainbows, fifty per cent of the time it was arguments and threats and fights. But the other fifty made it all worth it. Those were the few people in the world that understood him. Maybe they didn’t know exactly everything that was going through his mind and maybe they didn’t understand why he had such personality and attitudes, but at the end of the day, they accepted him. And, God forbid someone ever finding out, they made him feel less lonely. Almost dying had put everything into perspective, and Tony knew that up until the day of the Battle of New York, the only people he could really count on was Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. And now he could add five more people to that list. Still wasn’t much. But it was enough, and he was happy that way.

And that was why he tried so hard to give everything he could to them. Accommodation? Done. Exclusive tech? Done. Everything he could offer, even if they didn’t know what to do with it, even though they didn’t want it or need it, he gave them. It wasn’t because Tony was an altruistic and benevolent soul. Not even close. It was because he was selfish, really. He didn’t want to be alone again. He didn’t want them to go. So, the scientist tried to convince them to stay by bribing them. Not that it was needed, but he didn’t know that. Everyone in there were socially misfits, and everyone felt comfortable around each other, so they stayed. Because they knew they wouldn’t find that anywhere else. Of course, they didn’t spend the days glued to each other. Tony and Bruce would rather be in the lab, doing God knows what. Thor would come and go without warning anyone, whether it was to visit Jane, whether it was to go to Asgard. Clint and Natasha would stay radio silent for days, and then would come back without warning like Thor, and almost always in separated times. Steve liked to spend his time around the city or in the gym. The last three were trying to adjust to life without a full time job. 

But they liked each other’s company. They were like siblings, in one moment they were happily talking with a great feeling of comradery, in the other they were planning each other’s assassination. However, in a way that didn’t make any sense, it worked. And they wouldn’t change it for anything.

However, with coexistence, came knowledge. Within days they discovered each other’s limits. Likes, dislikes, preferences, histories, and mainly, moods. Natasha, surprisingly, wasn’t a morning person, and wouldn’t talk to anyone without having drinking at least half of a coffee pot. Clint, no matter how friendly and funny, was quieter than Bruce, preferring to be out of the spotlight, observing everything from afar and only inserting himself in the conversation when he wanted. Dr. Banner, despite the problem with his temperament (not only Hulk, and yes the explosive personality that his condition originated from) was the kindest and most lovable person amongst them, despite his almost social phobia. Tony would hide behind jokes and sarcasm, but he loved when they paid attention to him. Not only in the sense of admiration and adoration that he normally expected from people, but the scientist would get filled with joy every time thought of him for this or that, when he least expected it. Again, it was ironic, it was the small things that mattered to him.

And, despite nobody there being the definition of happiness and joy, they all noticed that no matter how thoughtful, helpful and kind Steve was, he simply emanated an immense sadness. And it wasn’t a wonder for anybody. Losing everything and everyone he knew, waking up in an unknown place without having a way to go back, it was expected of him to feel like this. Understandable. And, of course, no one would get over something like that in days. But, ever since they met him, he still remained the same, even three years later. Steve smiled, laughed, joked and interacted with the whole team, but it was noticeable that he was missing something. And, with every passing day, each one of them was getting worried that he was depressed. The serum might stop his body from getting sick, but it wasn’t guaranteed that it would do the same with his mind. There was no way of not getting worried about it, professionally and personally: Steve was their friend, and they couldn’t leave him suffering like that. But what could they do? And Steve as the team’s leader, even if it wasn’t official. What if it got worse, and he made a wrong decision in the field? They knew that Cap would never do anything to put them in danger on purpose. But they were talking about the man that decided to sink with a plane in an ocean of ice to save a country. It was expected of him. What it wasn’t expected of him was to deny rescue. To deny giving his location, to not wanting to be found. It was that kind of decision that worried the team.

For a while, they pretended that nothing was going on. Everyone was keeping an eye on Cap, and even with the almost tangible sadness that he carried inside him, everything continued normally, they hadn’t felt any danger. Until they started the Hydra’s bases destruction missions. In the Americas, in Asia, in any other locations, they didn’t have much trouble with such concern. It was in the Europe bases that the red flags started showing. With each one, it was something different. Sometimes he would come back from the mission and lock himself in his room, not coming out for days. In other times, he would go to the gym, without even changing his uniform, and would leave hours later, dead on his feet. Everyone knew the missions weren’t doing him any good, but couldn’t convince him of not going. First, they needed his help. And, more importantly, he refused to be left behind, insisting he was fine, and that the missions were only bringing him memories, that’s all.

Bruce’s opinion was that Steve was suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and depression. It made sense, considering that he had been in a war, and, specially, with the fact that he had spent seventy years frozen, while the whole world moved on. The scientist tried to talk with the Captain, explain what they could do, that he didn’t need to keep going that way. Stubborn as always, Steve only said that it would pass. That as soon as Hydra was completely destroyed, for once and for all, he would be fine. Banner doubted that, but didn’t see how he could argue with him. He thought that not even with the Big Guy and Thor, they could force an intervention with Steve. So, feeling helpless and despite not being religious, he prayed that Cap was right. And, it happened. He wasn’t getting so affected after the missions since that talk. If it was an effort to not let himself be affected so much, of if it was simply him hiding his emotions from his teammates, they didn’t know. But he didn’t get so closed off anymore. He wasn’t being reclusive, wasn’t hiding or excluding himself. Still would get quieter than normal, but at least he wasn’t shutting himself off. And they decided to see that as a good sign, and for a while, things were fine. They weren’t great, but they weren’t so worrying as before. Until the mess with Ultron, that is.

After his encounter with the Scarlet Witch and her visions, Steve transformed. When they arrived and discovered Barton’s family, he didn’t just shut himself off. He vanished. His body was there, of course. But that wasn’t the Steve Rogers they knew. No, that was Captain America. Not the publicity, not the idol, not the legend. It was Captain America from World War II, that only saw the battles, only focused in the confront, focused in the enemy and forgot everything that didn’t mattered to reach their goal. Except that, unlike the Captain America from the World War II, he wasn’t like that only when they were fighting. No, since Wanda’s vision, he suddenly hardened, closed off, and disputed with Natasha about who could keep an impassible face for longer. And won. Steve Rogers lost himself inside the Captain, inside the “man out of his time, pretending he could live without a war”, like Ultron had described him. His teammates knew that Steve wasn’t like that. But Captain America was. And it seemed that Steve, for some reason, whatever he saw in the vision, preferred that way.

_“Are you ready for our dance? The war is over, Steve. We can go home. Imagine it.”_

The Avengers expected that after the Battle of Sokovia things would go back to normal. They didn’t. Nobody could understand. They thought it was because Wanda’s vision, but Cap’s new and sudden behavior only manifested when they arrived at the Barton farm. And if it was about the young Maximoff, why would he defend her? Ask her to join the team? It didn’t make any sense. They waited for the day Steve would come back. Each tried their own way: Bruce offering to analyze him, even if he wasn’t a psychiatrist, and administrate some drug. Nat to hear him, or to get what he wanted. Thor even offered to take him to Asgard. But it was only when Wanda offered to make him forget the vision, that they got a reaction out of the man that wasn’t a robotized military: Cap got so, so angry that Vision thought he would beat the girl up. Of course he would never do such thing, but he was almost calling the rest of the team, when the man turned around and left the room. When Vision informed the team, nobody knew where to find him, he wasn’t anywhere. Not even F.R.I.D.A.Y could inform where the Captain was. So, they waited. He would come back some time.

It was when Tony got up in the middle of the night, another one of his nightmares caused by the wormhole in the Battle of New York not letting him sleep, and went to the kitchen to grab something to drink, that he noticed there was somebody else in the room. Even in the dark, Steve’s silhouette was so familiar that it didn’t scared him. So, pouring himself a drink, and without asking his companion, he poured a second one. The shoulders tense, the head low enough that it almost didn’t let him see the expression on his friend’s face that was the definition of pure pain and agony, told him that that wasn’t the withdrawn Captain they had dealt for the last few months. Steve was back, and suffering like never before. 

Silently, he crossed the room and sat beside his teammate, passing him the glass with the drink in it. The only response he got was an arched eyebrow and a side-eyed look. Knowing the man, Tony knew he was wordlessly asking why Stark was handing him a drink when he couldn’t get drunk.

“Mead from Asgard. Left over from the party which Thor brought it. By how you’re looking, you’re needing it.” Tony informed him, looking at his hands, covered in blood and wood chops. Some of it were in his arms and even in his face. It looked like Steve had gotten into a fight with Hogwart’s Whomping Willow. The two of them drank silently. Tony wanted to know what happened with his friend, but for once in his life, he had the sensibility of knowing that wasn’t the right moment. Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into hours. One dose became three, five, seven, and the whole time they were surrounded by silence. Tony’s nightmare had become the last thing in his mind, only focusing in thinking what was happening with Steve. Why the sudden change in the Barton farm? Why the change back, also sudden, now? His curiosity was winning, and he was about to ask, when Steve started talking.

“I know you are all worried. And I’m sorry about it. But I don’t know how to deal with it, Tony. Suppress and ignore it seemed the best solution at the time, we had more important things to concentrate on. But then Sokovia ended, and we had to deal with the UN, and the reconstruction, and the transfer into the complex. And I knew that it was better to focus on those things, because even after all that, I couldn’t deal with it. I still can’t. And suppress it seemed the better option.” Steve said, his voice hoarse, low, overfilled with an emotion that Tony wasn’t comfortable enough to identify. Hell, he didn’t feel comfortable with that whole situation, not even with his curiosity almost killing him. But he couldn’t leave his friend alone in such state. But he also wasn’t sentimental, and didn’t know how to respond.

“What happened, Steve? What can’t you deal with?” He asked, instead. Maybe the Captain would give him more information, and his analytical brain would know what to do. “What Wanda made you see that changed your behavior completely?”

For a moment, Steve was silent. He wasn’t used to opening up to people, never was. Especially with Tony, with whom he had more of a frenemy relation than anything. But he knew that Tony cared, and was worried about him. And that whole thing was consuming him. He had kept inside for so long, but couldn’t do it anymore. So, he answered.

“First of all, I know you guys have been talking. And I know about Bruce’s opinion, and that you all trust it. But I’m not sick. I’m not suicidal, Tony.” Steve started, looking at him directly, with such seriousness that Tony had never seen in the Captain. He knew his friend was convinced of it. “What happened with the Valkyrie… there wasn’t time. And I couldn’t let it happen. But at the same time, I regret it so much. Maybe it is selfish of me, thinking only about me and not the lives that were saved… but I didn’t want to die, Tony. Even losing Bucky a few days prior, I didn’t want to die. I had almost everything I wanted, and I was forced to leave it behind. Forced to abandon them. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to and I regret it every single day.

“I’m not ungrateful. I’m glad I’m alive, and to be here and having you guys. I know none of us are sentimental, but I wouldn’t be able to handle it all without you guys. And I’m eternally grateful for all you’ve done for me. I love you guys, but we all know this isn’t my place. I thought that maybe, with time, it would get better. But it didn’t. My desire only grows; my regret only grows. And I… I can’t stop thinking that I want my past back. I want back what I missed. What I left behind. I want what Wanda showed me, Tony.”

“What did she show you, Steve?” Asked the scientist, quietly. Somehow, Steve’s venting shocked him. Nobody in the team could say they didn’t imagine that such things were inside his mind, but surely nobody thought it was such intensity. Tony, who had lived his fair share of traumas, couldn’t comprehend. It was what Steve was saying between the lines: the problem wasn’t that life wasn’t good in that time, it was. The problem was that he didn’t belong there. Steve didn’t want to die. He just didn’t want his life to be there. And despite imagining that the Captain had adaptation problems, he never imagined it was in this proportion. Because that wasn’t just an adaptation problem. Adaptation problems meant complications while becoming part of something new. It was just that, deep down, Steve would never be a part of that world.

“Wanda intended to show us our worst nightmare. When I talked to her, she told me the intention was to break us from the inside. But how do you break something that is already broken? How do you show a nightmare that had already become reality? No. What she showed me was my worst regret: the future I gave away. And I… I went mad. Living with such thoughts, imagining such sceneries, are one thing. But to see them becoming real? Living them, even for a few seconds, and then discover that it wasn’t true, just like the other times, only that this one was in such a real way that I believed I was living it for a few instants? Nobody is strong enough for this, Tony, even I admit it. I thought suppressing what I saw was the best thing to do, but each second of it was burned into my mind. The proof I lost everything I needed. And it was only today, when Wanda suggested that she could make me forget that I realized that I don’t want to forget. Because real or not, the memory of that vision is the only thing I have left of what I had. And I don’t want to forget it. But I also don’t want to go without it. Like I said, I’m not suicidal, Tony. But how can I go on with a life that I don’t want to live? Even if it is my only option. Even if what I want is impossible?

“What do you want, Steve?” Tony asked. It didn’t take a genius to guess the answer. But nobody ever seemed to ask the Captain what he wanted. Each and every one of his decisions were taken from him. Maybe it would help him feel less helpless, and being in that position before, even in a different situation, Tony knew that giving him a little bit of power could help. But he wasn’t expecting the idea he got from Steve’s answer.

“I want back what I left behind, Tony. I want to live the life I wanted, not in 2015, but in 1945. I wanted to go back in time, and find a solution, so that I didn’t have to give up my whole life, especially when I was just getting started. I want to go back and give Peggy the goddamned coordinates, now that I know I can survive the fall. I just want to go back, Tony.” The desolated man vented. Steve wasn’t crying, but it was clear that it was only because he didn’t have the energy to. He had surrendered to that fight, hopeless. Even knowing it was impossible, he refused to accept that reality. The reality that wasn’t his, not really. It was just... there was nothing else to do. Instants of the vision of what his future could have been was everything he had left, in the end.

Hopeless, desolated, miserable. There wasn’t a word in the dictionary capable to describe the mix of apathy, regret, pain and despair that he lived in ever since waking up in 2012, and that only intensified with each day, dominating his being ever since Wanda’s vision. It was all he got.

Steve knew nothing more it would come out of that conversation. He didn’t want to say anything more, and even though he was a great listener that night, he knew that Stark wasn’t a shrink, nor had the aptitude for it. So, instead of continuing drowning his sorrows in Thor’s drink, he decided to go work some of his frustrations at the gym. Maybe if he exhausted himself, he would be able to sleep without nightmares that would wake him up. Ha. He wished. Getting up, he thanked and said goodnight to Tony, leaving the room.

However, the scientist barely noticed his friend leaving, actually. His words had somehow triggered a memory, from when he went through his father’s mementos, even before he met the Captain, the ones he said he left Tony a few things. In his desperation to cure his intoxication, he hadn’t gone through all the material. But he remembered the Senior Stark saying there was a project, one he had never been able to complete, one of his greatest disappointments. “A project of time that maybe it will take time to be completed, if you believe in fate’s poetic coincidences. But the truth is that no matter how much I want or work hard, this project won’t be able to be completed in present times, there is still so much that we don’t know. But I believe in you, kiddo. I know that someday you will be able to complete it, in your time.”

At the time, Tony hadn’t given the message a second thought, too cryptic for him to decipher when he had so much to solve, and after that, well, he just forgot about it. But now, thinking about it, of all the times Howard told him about Captain America, he just thought it was some blind devotion his dad had for the man. But the words he used, about never being able to bring him back, to go back and stopping Cap from making that mistake... Tony had always thought it was with a nostalgic tone that his father told him those things. But now, he realized that maybe he had mistaken nostalgic with frustrated. Regretful with disappointed. Letting out an ironic laugh, he thought that, apparently, everything really had its own time. And if his dad was talking about what he was thinking, it was time to give back a man to his own time.

The man remembered bringing those files to the complex, not trusting leaving them at the company, and they were currently in the storage. Not caring for being the middle of the night, he ran to the room and spent the next hour going through all the boxes, probably looking like a maniac, until he finally found it, one hour and a half later, the notes journal and video collection that his father left him. Like a man with a mission, he left the room and went to his lab, locking himself in it without any other thought. It was time to get some answers, and, if everything went like he was expecting, to complete Howard’s project and give Steve what he wanted.

Tony devoured the information he had as if it was food and he was famished. By the time lunch hour came, since he must have found the journal and the videos around five a.m., he had already read it twice and with F.R.I.D.A.Y’s help, he was computing all that information and was about to put it to work. He was excited like never before; he hadn’t felt this way ever since J.A.R.V.I.S’ creation. He had been excited about Ultron, but considering that was a mistake and, if he was being honest, what was another AI close to the first one he made, even if it was for a global scale? Now, he was trying the impossible, the fictional. He would invent time travel. Reading Howard’s notes, Tony wasn’t surprised that his father hadn’t made it. The thought process was right, but not the procedure. It was truth: there wasn’t how to do it in that time. But it was very probable that it was possible in his.

He was about to start putting some of his theories to the test, when Bruce entered the lab, warning him that, as agreed, he could only miss two meals – in that case, breakfast and lunch – before he had to endure an intervention. However, he ended up distracted by what Tony was doing. When he asked about it, his friend only told him he had found his father’s old journal, and wanted to test a theory the Stark Senior once had. Tony didn’t tell him about Steve. Firstly, it wasn’t his story to tell, no matter how worried everyone was. Secondly, Bruce would stop him, after Ultron he didn’t give much confidence in his ideas as before. So, leaving out Steve’s part in the story, Stark only told him that his father had been trying to make time travelling real, but didn’t have the necessary equipment when he was alive, and left him instructions, in case Tony was interested in. Cautious, Dr. Banner decided to help, since if they would be successful, they would warn and discuss it with the team first. Tony agreed, even though he knew it wouldn’t be the case. He didn’t know how things would be without Steve, but he was anxious to find out – not because he wanted to get rid of his teammate, but because he wanted to give him what he wanted the most.

Bruce dragged him to dinner, but they passed the following days theorizing and trying to prove such theories. The process of trial-and-error was frustrating, but at the same time addictive. The theories were fascinating, and trying to prove them was almost like a drug. They discussed the Grandfather Paradox, if the time and space line was linear or circular, theorizing if everything happens only because it has already happened, was happening and will happen. They read about theorists that proclaimed time was fixed, and nothing could be changed because it had been already determined. Others disagreed, judging time as fluid, characterizing it as something that existed while it was happening, with every decision and event. It was mind-blowing, but incredibly fantastic. At last, Bruce believed in the theory that time was circular, and Tony in the one that time was linear. Both would do if he could send Steve to where he wanted, his purpose in waking up in the future was to have the opportunity to go back to the past.

Despite that, they agreed in one thing, in a few basic physical rules: two bodies didn't occupy the same place the same time. He couldn’t send Steve back, because in 1945, there was already a Steve. A frozen, missing, forgotten by the world Steve, but he did exist. If that project was already risky, sending him back was unthinkable, even for Tony. He wasn’t willing to pay to see what would happen. Bruce didn’t understand his friend’s frustration that lasted for days when they reached that conclusion, and when he enquired him about it, his answers didn’t make sense. At last, only understanding what Tony meant by the simultaneous existence of two bodies, and hoping his friend wasn’t planning something whimsical that would bring great consequences, since they had already saw that movie before, he just told him:

“But if that is the problem, why don’t work with something that doesn’t already exist, something abstract. If you want to modify an event; an audio, a video, hell, even a note will be sufficient.”

Tony could have kissed Bruce in that moment, if he didn’t think that he would turn into Hulk by the surprise and indignation. He didn’t need to send Steve back, He just needed to send the coordinates of the plane to 1945, coordinates that he already had in his files from the times he hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.

Joining the power of the Tesseract – which was on Earth since the Aether already was in Odin’s safes, and Thor’s vision wouldn’t let him trust the option of letting the two of the in the same place and the rest of the Zero Matter –, he finally managed it, almost a month after the idea first came to mind, the instantaneous time travelling, or, more simply, the teleportation, when he managed to send a note from his lab to Bruce’s. The joy and satisfaction the two scientists felt were almost palpable, laughing and hugging, not believing in what they had accomplished. Bruce wanted to run and tell the others, and Tony agreed, since he wouldn’t try anything that moment. They scheduled a meeting for the first thing in the next morning, it being already past midnight, and Dr. Banner made sure that Tony left the lab first before going to sleep, to avoid what happened with Ultron from happening again. Which was exactly what occurred.

Knowing his window to act was short and that his friend would be keeping an eye on him, Tony left the message he would send already recorded, in the very journal that started the whole thing. Inserting something to confirm the location he sent to his father, trying to make sure Howard would trust the sudden information and not ignore it, making that whole effort useless, he left the lab with Bruce without a care in the world. If it went wrong, nobody would ever know. If it worked, since his theory had already been proven that time and space were intertwined, ergo, if the teleportation worked, the little trip through time the information about Steve would do, would also work. It was why he decided to go about it in that way, that time: if Steve suddenly vanished as Tony suspected he would, since his body would be recovered in 1945 and not in 2012, nobody would link his friend’s disappearance to him.

 _Even though I love challenges, that one was for you, Steve,_ he thought. _I’m sending you back home. I’m giving you back the future you gave away. Even if it proves me to be a fool when tomorrow comes and it doesn't work out, it will have been worth it. And if it doesn’t, I will keep trying, no matter how much time passes, no matter if it takes me a million days. I’ll do it for you, to make your brokenness whole again. Maybe the past is already gone, but I’m here to give it back to you. Good luck, Steve. Good life._

**1947**

Saying Howard was surprised to see a message appearing in his journal was an understatement. On the ship’s deck, he almost fell into the ocean from the fright of it. Especially when the message revealed itself to be the supposed location of Captain Rogers.

It all was too strange, too suspicious. How was it possible? How could he trust it? But... he was indeed thinking about time travelling. If he was considering such madness, how couldn’t he consider this one? Especially when the words bellow the coordinates were identical to the ones he had wrote in the initial pages of the journal. Whoever he may be, this Tony guy had his attention. The location was tens of thousands of miles from there, but they had time, and didn’t have a better guess. And, if it would be proven wrong, at least he had already managed to recover the Tesseract to have his own tries.

Howard Stark thought that the words magically appearing in his journal while he was reading it were the most surprising ones he had known in his life. He was wrong. The most shocking ones he had known was from one of his crew staff, when he came running to his direction, where he was standing a few feet from the coast, observing the white, freezing vastness around him. The face of the young man was with a confused, but intensely happy expression.

“We found something that looks a whole lot with the Valkyrie, Mr. Stark. There is only one person aboard it, and we are almost one hundred per cent sure it is Captain America, sir.” Said the boy, barely containing the excitement from his voice and face. Howard felt his lips opening instantly in a smile, and was about to respond when the boy interrupted him, practically jumping up and down from joy. “The detectors found heat signals in his body, Mr. Stark. If this is really Captain America, it is highly possible that he is alive.”

It was almost October at that point, and Peggy wasn’t managing to focus straight on the reports she had to write about her last missions. Despite only having a few minutes left before her shift was over, she needed to keep herself busy. The end of September, in the last few years, had been practically unbearable, and the agent could barely contain her anticipation.

Despite of what Howard thought, she knew why and where to he vanished every summer since 1945. The guy could be filthy rich and do everything to hide his activities, but she was an agent trained in intelligence and espionage, for God’s sake. If he thought he could fool her with sloppy excuses, he had another thing coming. She just preferred to encourage him, accepting the lies to not keep thinking about the truth. To not create expectations and be disappointed whenever he came back with a crestfallen and guilty look, telling her everything she needed to know about his expedition: no findings. With each year, she knew the probability was getting lower and lower. And knew she shouldn’t encourage the naïve hopes of her mind. He wouldn’t come back. Steve was gone, and would never come back to her, Peggy needed to accept that. But every time Howard informed her he was leaving on a trip during the summer and would be back in the fall, she couldn’t help but feel her heart pulsing with anxiety. Her breath missing from her lungs with the simple thought that would be the time they would bring Steve back home.

So, it was understandable that she was restless, since each passing day was a day less for Howard to arrive back. It was a day less that she’ll maybe see Steve for the last time. And that was what made her nervous. The uncertainty of when Howard would be back. The possibility of being another wasted trip. The possibility of them finding him, and she having to say her last goodbye, definitive and eternal. A noise pulled her from her thoughts, and it took the a few instants to process that was her phone.

“Ms. Carter?” They said from the other side of the line. Peggy would recognize that voice anywhere. It was Mr. Jarvis’ voice, and that only meant one thing. Her heart accelerated with such speed she thought she would have a heart attack. She could feel her whole body getting colder and the air leaving her lungs. “Ms. Carter?”

“Hello, Mr. Jarvis.” She replied, with the intention of her voice coming out controlled, but it sounded shaky, uncertain and vulnerable. Peggy would be embarrassed in any other occasion, but in that moment she was busy trying not to pass out.

“Ms. Carter, I’m sorry about my rudeness of not greeting you right, but Mr. Stark is asking that you meet him in his residence urgently. A car is waiting for you outside the building.” Informed her the man, making her mind spin. What did he mean, meet him in the penthouse? Howard had never asked her that before.

“What do you mean? What is happening, Mr. Jarvis?” The agent inquired, her nervous state starting to show, and her high voice attracting the attention from the coworkers around her.

“It is a too sensible subject to be treated through the phone, Ms. Carter. Please, just come, immediately. It is of extreme importance.” He told her before hanging up, keeping her from asking him anything else. For a few moments, she just stared at the phone in her hands. What was happening?

Then the urgency in the voice and the request of the man she came to consider a friend woke her from her stupor, and she just took her coat and purse before going to the lift and the exit, her mind spinning in circles trying to understand what was happening. She didn’t worry about leaving a couple of minutes early, she would handle it with Thompson the next day. Now she needed to understand what was happening.

Every time he came back from his expeditions, it was Howard who would come to find her, and not the other way around. Not mentioning that he always informed her before that he was coming. She didn’t understand why this time was being different. If he had found Steve, why would he ask her to meet him at his penthouse? Unless, something went wrong. Some accident must have had happened.

She kept debating with herself the entire way, trying to keep herself calm and not lose her mind. There sure was an explanation, and she would soon find out. If it was something serious, they would deal with it the best way possible. There wasn’t a reason for her to be in that state. There wasn’t a reason, besides being minutes away from discovering if they found Steve or not. The air was gone from her lungs and she couldn’t pull it to breath, her mind was going a thousand miles a second trying to discover what was waiting for her, even thought she was trying to keep herself calm. The ride seemed to last forever, and she was trying to make it alive, despite her body not being cooperative. She didn’t understand why she was reacting that way. She always managed to keep a level head in critical moments, and that was why she was a great agent. So why couldn’t she do it in that moment?

The answer was obvious; it was because it had something to do with Steve. The answer was always Steve, and waiting for the news she was expecting took her control away. She just hoped that she didn’t completely lose it in case she didn’t received the answer she wanted.

Running out of the car as soon as it got to the address, even before the driver could park it completely, the woman entered the building hurriedly, thanking God for the lift being in the ground floor and she could enter it in that same instant. The journey to the penthouse was dragging on and it seemed she would pass out. Peggy knew there wasn’t a reason why to be in such state, but something inside her told her something huge was about to happen. And it being about Steve, she didn’t know how to handle, after weeks of anticipation. Exactly like in the car, the elevator doors barely opened and the woman was already running out into the apartment, not caring about knocking, and finding the front door opened and clearly awaiting her arrival. Passing the hall and entering the living room, she suddenly stopped when she found the room empty. Where was Howard and Mr. Jarvis?

“Howard? Mr. Jarvis?” She called, analyzing the room carefully. What was happening? Not understanding, she took a few steps forward, trying to have a better view of the room to understand the situation, while calling louder. “Howard! Mr. Jarvis!”

“Peggy.”

The agent felt a presence behind her and was about to turn around when her name came out in voice she knew so well, that with so much longing, she had never forgotten. The air she was trying to keep in her body escaped at once from her lungs, while she felt her body freeze from head to toe. No. She was imagining it. It was impossible.

“Peggy.” The voice repeated, making her close her eyes while a tear escaped from her left eye. A big and masculine hand closed gently around hers, turning her around slowly and in the direction of the sound. Afraid to open her eyes and be an invention from her mind, she stood frozen, with eyes closed turned to the body in front of her.

“Open your eyes, Peggy.” Whispered the voice close to her face. She could even feel the air touching her cheeks, showing her it was indeed real. But her fear was still bigger. “Open them. I swear to you that I’m here.”

She closed her eyes harder, more tears escaping from them, then opening them and facing the vision that lived in her dreams and haunted her memories all the time. A long face, with a mix of fine and strong traces, almost golden hair, high cheeks and a strong jaw below them, making it look like they belong to a renaissance statue, rosy lips that stared at her with a memory of a gentle and brief touch in the back of a car from years ago and, finally, a pair of blue eyes that she was so much in love with, that watched her with the greatest joy she had ever seen. Peggy didn’t know she was still crying until she felt his fingers gently wiping away the tears from her cheeks.

“Please, don’t cry. It’s alright, I’m here.”

Peggy couldn’t restrain herself with the vision of him standing so close, touching her. Before she could think about controlling herself and in a quick movement, she wrapped his neck with one of her hands, bringing him closer and capturing his lips in a kiss.

The memory didn’t do it justice. The smooth lips caressing hers took more tears from her, and the way he hugged her waist and back, bringing her against him ended with any chance of ever breathing again. It was heavenly. It was a dream. It was her prays and illusions becoming reality. The kiss didn’t last long, since she couldn’t hold a sob in. Pulling away with small, short kisses, he moved away a little, still keeping her in an embrace. Which was great, since even with his arms around her, she could barely believe it. The tears were still streaming down her cheeks, while she looked at him completely hypnotized, mesmerized.

“Steve? You’re... you’re alive.” She mumbled through tears, not believing in what she was seeing. How many times had she dreamed about it? How many times had she wished for him to come back? It seemed so real, and Peggy couldn’t help but to be afraid of imagining all of that, not being able to stop another, more intense wave of tears. “You’re back? It’s… it’s been so long!”

“I couldn’t leave my best girl.” He replied, the smile becoming bigger and bigger on his face, but she could see a few tears in his eyes too, which stared at her with the biggest adoration in the world. “Not when she still owes me a dance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have enjoyed it!
> 
> This was first written in portuguese, in 2018, waaay before Infinity War was released. I needed to write something to reunite my OTP. Now, after Endgame, I'm overjoyed that my ship is reunited not only in my dreams, but also in canon!
> 
> I have an amazing, awesome, incredible beta, Bruna, who not only beta read this the first time in portuguese, but also did it once again when I decided to participate in this year's steggy week and translated this story, about two weeks ago. Thanks Bru, for beta reading it on such short notice. You're the best, and I love you 3000!  
> (Also, go check her works here on ao3: [blue_fairytale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_fairytale/))
> 
> Again, English isn't my first language. If you noticed any mistakes, please contact me and I'll fix it.


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